Homebirth-A-Go-Go 2012--Part V...

Part I     Part II     Part III     Part IV

So the biggest moment had past.  The baby was here, and all was well, but there was still significant business to attend to before the big thing all of us were looking forward to (sleep).

Being the one who had just given birth--in my dining area--I had the privilege of more or less hanging out and holding a baby while the others bustled around me.  In this moment I did have a fleeting thought of "why didn't I give birth in the bed?" but it's one of those retrospect things.  I couldn't ask for a re-do, and it seems that everything worked out OK anyway so again, it was what it was.  I was reclined fairly comfortably against some pillows, and was covered with warm towels from the dryer, and was generally cozy amid the bustling.

Before too long I delivered the placenta, and it was in good shape; always a good thing. Now, placentas have never been my favorite thing.  When I have paid attention I have found them somewhat fascinating; I mean, they really have a big job there in the womb, getting nutrients and stuff to the baby. But I've always been content to trust the docs'/midwives' assessment and get on with things.  Carol later said she and Marte felt it was a beautiful placenta, and this is an area where I chose to trust them, and say "thank you" and be honored that I had a beautiful placenta. 

Carol sat (or maybe knelt?), observing, and probably poking at my belly, and at one point said, "You're about to earn yourself a shot of pitocin," (to make my uterus contract and help slow down bleeding) to which I replied "I will think non-bleeding thoughts," and in the end I didn't need a shot of pitocin.  Whether it was just fortunate timing, or my thoughts actually did affect things we can never know for sure, but I am glad to take credit for it anyway.  Good job, Skerrib, for mentally talking yourself out of a pitocin shot. 

After all of this we decided it was time to get me into bed, which I thought was a fabulous idea.  Carol was very concerned that I not get dizzy or pass out.  Her advice was, "If at any point you feel dizzy, you just sit/lie down because once the dizziness starts it doesn't get any better from there." I thought that was good advice.  I've been fortunate to not have dizziness after any of my births, although I have to be conscious about taking in a full breath.  I don't know all that much beyond high school anatomy, but I imagine it's something relating to my diaphragm, and readjusting to not having a baby taking up all that interior space anymore, or something.  But I'm totally guessing on that, so who knows. The point is, I remembered to breathe, and we all went back to the bedroom, and I gladly climbed into bed without any troubles.  Which is good, because had I gotten dizzy it would've been awkward with all of us squeezed into the hallway and me lying on the floor trying to think non-dizzy thoughts.

Next we set up to do the cord burning.  "What's that, Skerrib? What on earth is cord burning and, seriously, are you some kind of hippie??"  My rough summary of cord burning history and philosophy is that it goes back to some of the Eastern (Asian, I think) practices, with the body's Chi (energy) and stuff like that.  Burning the cord instead of clamping it is good for the baby's Chi, and helps him/her get a good start.  I'm not too sure what to make of the Chi...I think there's an element of mystery to be appreciated about the Chi, and in general there are things about the human body that we don't fully understand, and I'm certainly all for good Chi, but beyond that it gets a little freaky-deaky for me, so I don't delve too far into it.

As far as the technical aspects--Carol had a baby-sized heat shield (cardboard wrapped in foil) that we placed in front of the baby (who was snuggled next to me).  The heat shield had a little opening for the cord to come thru, and then the cord was placed over a little metal bowl.  Carol then used a candle to burn the cord, which as a result was cauterized, sealed, sterilized, and so on, leaving a cord stump about 3-inches long.  It wasn't really any more cumbersome than a clamped-cord stump and in our case it fell off much sooner than average, within about 3 days.  Some families choose to do a prayer or song or something during the 5 minutes or so that the cord burning takes; others don't.  Being generally very practical about most things, we were content to simply watch and be part of the process.

After this there was the weighing and measuring, and final once-overs and such, and soon it was time for the ladies to slip out and leave us to sleeping.  Which the Cat Daddy and baby did plenty of, but I only did sporadically because, you know, I'd just had a baby and all.

The boyz came back home after they woke up the next morning to greet their new sister. 

Carol (and sometimes Marte) came back several times over the next several days for checks & rechecks and such.  Carol shot me in the butt on Easter (I'm Rh-negative), because really, what better time to be shot in the butt than on the day we celebrate the Resurrection??  And just like that, we were off & running, our brand-new family of 5.

And really, that pretty much sums up the story.  I keep stalling in my mind a bit.  I mean, how do I make sure to capture it all, this practical, and maybe even a little bit hurried, telling of such a sacred, heady event?  There's no way to get it all. But I think I got the best and most important parts.

I've had a couple of motivations for sharing the whole story.  I know home birth is different than the norm for most people, so I hope I've taken out some of the mystery of it.  It's certainly not for everyone, but for me it has been a wonderful thing (and I'm always glad to talk people's ears off about it, so if you have any questions or curiosities, please feel free to comment or email).

My personal goal, however, was to at least get the facts down--gory details and everything--knowing that as time passes and I come back and read them, my memories and feelings will be triggered, and I'll remember the experience and be so grateful that I got the privilege of it all.

Thanks for joining me...

Homebirth-A-Go-Go 2012--Part IV...

Part I     Part II     Part III     Part V

Well, let's get down to brass tacks. Or is it brass tax? As I was leaning on a chair during a contraction I started to feel pressure down low, as in my butt-region. In short, I felt like I needed to poop. It is estimated that about 30% of women do in fact poo in labor, and if you are familiar at all with my history, then you know it's a "gift" of mine. I poo, and then out comes a baby. Gross, but reassuring if you think about it. Because as I got that sensation part of me thought "Eh, it might just be poop," but most of me thought, "Alright, almost there!!"

But having the (neurotic) desire to remain cool & calm all the time, I said something like, "Carol I'm feeling pressure down low. I might have to go poop." And we talked it over & came to the conclusion that I would sit on the toilet for a little bit and see what happened, with strict instructions not to strain or push. And oh-by-the-way, to give a yell if a baby came out. It was a good plan.

Well, I sat on the toilet through a couple of contractions, but the results were, um, miniscule at best. It was so disappointing. But soon another contraction came, producing a higher quantity of mucus than before, simultaneously grossing out and encouraging me. As I was coming out of the contraction the Cat Daddy knocked to see how I was doing, and I told him to hold on a minute, that I was in the middle of a contraction and would talk to him when it was over. Except in way fewer words. I left out the part about the mucus, because he is squeamish about a lot of things, and talk of mucus right then might have put him over the edge.

Now by this point I knew birth was imminent. Things were moving along nicely. And what did my brain choose to obsess over? Whether or not to put my underwear and jammy-pants back on. I mulled it over for probably a few seconds, but it felt like ten minutes. Seriously, I couldn't decide and then I was all "Who cares, Skerrib, you're in labor for heaven's sake!" So finally I kind of settled in the middle, walking out with my pants draped over my shoulder and explaining myself: "So, I think my pants are staying off, but I still have my underpants on for now." And I told Carol about the mucus.  I can only imagine the things that Carol & Marte hear in the course of the labors they attend. I mean, to me it's mildly outlandish, discussing the state of my pants/underwear and the quantity and hue of my mucus, but it has to be something they deal with all the time, which might explain why they took it all calmly in stride. That, or they are great at pretending to take it all in stride and then giggle about it later on the way home.

So as I was walking out of my bathroom, through the dining room, toward the living room, the next contraction came on. I stopped and grabbed a chair, and within my brain there occurred great chaos, as I could feel everything happening at once. The baby was dropping suddenly, and was going to come out shortly, and the reason I knew this is that the real poop was coming out, and I swear I wasn't consciously pushing, but there my body was, making it all happen. What I consciously thought was, "The baby's coming out." And I think in my desire to be overly-precise and not mislead Carol into believing the baby was coming out at that exact moment, I actually said, "Something's happening."

Over in the living room the Cat Daddy sprung into action, recruiting Marte to help him get the plastic sheet down on the rug. To an extent this made sense, as I gave birth to the Littler One in there. However, in my mind I said, "I'm not making it over there; the baby is coming out here." I don't know how the poop got removed, but I know that it came out into my underwear, and I know that I did not do the removing. I'm not sure exactly what I said, but I know in my mind I was thinking about how to tell Carol that she was going to have to remove my underwear for me, and somehow they ended up about halfway down, right around my knees.

This might seem incredibly gratuitous and unnecessary, but there's a reason to remember it; I promise.

As far as I can tell, Carol put down a chux (?) pad and some towels on the wood floor where we were standing. And then began the yell. With the last birth it snuck up on me, but this time around I was ready. The baby was coming out, and somehow a little yell gives me the oomph to get the baby out as well as the patience not to push too eagerly. I think so, anyway; you'd actually have to ask Carol because she said she didn't remember me yelling too loud, but to me it seemed pretty loud, so it's one of those things that is just whatever it was. And with the yell came the ring of fire, and feeling increasing relief as, still standing in my dining room with my underpants down around my knees, I felt the baby's head come out, and then her shoulders, and then there was one last hangup--I think she had her arm up against her chest or something--and then she was out. Carol might have said "The baby's out," but I don't know. I do know that I thought in my head "I know she's out, because I feel so much better."

Carol had caught the baby from behind me and sort of fed her thru so I could pick her up from the front, but my gifted baby delayed things slightly because she reached out and grabbed onto my underpants on the way! I think this is rather resourceful; I mean, for all she knew she was falling, and when you're falling you save yourself by grabbing onto whatever you can find. She had no idea that she wasn't falling, so it's understandable. But I'm trying to pick her up, and thinking (saying?) "Let go of the underpants so I can hold you!" and I pried her tiny hand open, and then I had to sort of maneuver the cord around her leg a bit (giving me a chance to verify that she was in fact a girl), and then I know I told her "I am so glad you're here!!"


The others rigged up some pillows and towels and such so I could sit down/lie back for a bit. In the dining room. The Cat Daddy took a couple quick photos with his phone, and Carol and Marte did their thing. I know there was observing and charting out the wazoo. There may or may not have been Apgar scores; I don't remember. I might have babbled like a brook or just sat there taking it all in. The things I remember vividly, as with all my babies' births, are the intense relief and gratitude to be not only not pregnant anymore, but also holding a healthy and perfect little kiddo...


Part I  Part II   Part III   Part V

Homebirth-A-Go-Go 2012--Part III...

Part I     Part II     Part IV     Part V

So the midwife and her assistant (Carol & Marte) arrived around 8:45 pm.  I was to the point in labor that I was still wearing pants, and I had to stop and concentrate thru contractions, but otherwise I was all, "Come on in, would you like a drink?" as if we were getting together just for fun.  I don't know why I do that. 

Actually, I know exactly why I do that.  Here's my deal with labor--it is hard work.  I don't ever want to minimize the work of it and tell someone "Oh, it's no big deal," so please kick me in the shin if you hear that come out of my mouth with regard to labor and birthing.  At the same time, while I am entering in and respecting the process and all of that, I don't want to feel completely consumed by it, or I will freak out. The part of me with control issues needs to control something. If I can stay present enough to say things like "please," "thank you," and so on, then I feel like--while it is big and important--it is manageable enough that it will not overcome me, and I will indeed make it through to the other side.  So there's that.

Anyway, if you've been in my living room, you've seen the big rug, the 2 rocking chairs, and the blue & khaki couches.  Really the khaki couch is just tan, but somehow when His Highness started learning colors we started calling it khaki.  And why not?  Khaki sounds so much more interesting than boring old tan.  So picture two very nice ladies sitting on the khaki couch, the Cat Daddy on the old rocker, and me sitting cross-legged on the floor next to a white fitness ball except during contractions, when I draped myself face-down over the ball.  We all sat & chatted.  The Cat Daddy regaled us all with tales of a co-worker who shattered his ankle in an avalanche while ice climbing.  I shook my head in amusement at first, and then a little later I was getting a little annoyed, mostly because labor was moving right along and contractions were getting harder to breathe thru, so I was beginning to hum through them. 

Also during the process I was having a hard time deciding whether I was hot or cold.  When the ladies arrived I had the windows open and they were all, "Gosh, are you feeling warm?" And I was for a while, but then I got cooler and shut the windows, and eventually started shivering a little bit, which I suspect was at least part due to nerves, but when I put on socks & a sweatshirt I stopped shivering, so there's that.  But then I got warm and took the sweatshirt off...and started shivering again before long.  So my clothing was variable.

During all this Carol had listened to the baby's heartbeat a few times.  I liked how she approached it--she didn't seem to have a particular time schedule, but she listened under different circumstances.  For example she listened once in between contractions, once as I was coming out of a contraction, and I forget what the third one was; maybe as I was going through a contraction?  But the cool thing for me is that she could tell me the overall pattern or whatever she was listening for.  And thankfully, the baby was following the normal patterns, giving all indications that she was doing well and was indeed getting ready to come out.

And let's not forget Marte.  From what I can tell, Marte is a champion of charting.  It is most definitely not the only thing she does in the birthing process, but it is one thing that she does prolifically.  I don't even know what all she wrote down, but I'm pretty sure there are lots of things they are watching for during labor in both mom & baby. 

The Cat Daddy finally switched the iPad from YouTube videos of his ice climbing co-worker to the Simon & Garfunkel station on Pandora, and I was grateful.  By this time it was somewhere around 10:30 or 11pm, I believe.  I'd moved over to the blue chair-and-a-half and had stretched out on it and the ottoman.  The dang contractions were getting more annoying though, which really put a damper on my desire to nap.  I can remember starting to complain a little bit by this time, saying I knew I had to get thru this to be done, but that I really didn't like this part of things. 

It's a tricky thing sometimes with labor.  By this point it was past my bedtime, so I was tired and wanted to rest in between contractions.  And not knowing exactly how long labor would go, it is reasonable to want to rest, especially around bedtime.  However for me, it was not the best choice.  The contractions didn't go away, but neither did they pick up or get stronger or anything like that.  So after a time Carol & Marte gently suggested I get up and walk around a bit.  I was good-naturedly-annoyed (is that even possible?), meaning I really did want to take a nap, but I also agreed that getting up would be the best thing to get thru labor and be done so we could all go to sleep for real. 

Awesome thing number 597 about home birthing:  I decided I wanted an English muffin.  So I walked myself over to my toaster, toasted an English muffin, chose to spread apricot jam and butter (olive oil spread, actually) on it, and ate part of it.  Entirely possible in a hospital, yes.  But not nearly as simple a process.

And guess what? The contractions did in fact speed up and even got a little harder, so we all agreed I was staying up and putzing around for a while.  Mostly I just paced around my living/dining room area, taking an occasional bite of English muffin, leaning on my dining chairs during contractions, and complaining that they were getting harder and I was super annoyed by them.  Carol said after the fact that she didn't remember me being all that complain-y, but I sure felt it. 

This is another thing about labor--it is sometimes difficult to remember what you actually said, and what you thought in your head.  There were a few things where I really thought I said them and neither Carol nor Marte remembered me saying them.  It's the ultimate case of "Did I just say that out loud?" except it's entirely possible that the answer is no...


Part I   Part II    Part IV    Part V

Homebirth-A-Go-Go 2012--Part II...

Part I     Part III     Part IV     Part V

So then things were boring for a while.  More paperwork, more writing down start times for contractions...and dang it if they didn't start getting closer together.  And I thought, "Well, maybe something really is happening. I'd better get this paperwork done just in case." 

Unfortunately though, the paperwork was just too involved to finish right then.  It was a really long and really boring form requiring things like old addresses, people who "knew me when," alternate names for the color beige, and so on.  Things I would have to dig around a bit to find. And my 'puter was forcing me offline so it could do some updates for work.  Plus by now it was in the 5's, and the natives were getting hungry, and I thought, "If something really is happening I should probably feed my children."  So there was that. And then there were the early-labor tasks, like making up the bed (good sheets on bottom, plastic layer, and old sheets on top), and prepping the egg-bake for the after-the-birth meal, and so on. All to say, I put away the work stuff and got down to business on home stuff.

The interesting thing to me about the next few hours--except for the fact that I was fairly convinced I was finally in labor--is how ordinary was the course of events. The Cat Daddy came home at his regular time, having not even looked at my texts until I told him about them, thereby rendering all of them moot. I gave Carol a call just before dinner to check in, and based on my descriptions she said it sounded pretty labor-ish (my words), and to call again in an hour (or sooner if it all hit the fan--my words again).  Then there was dinner, and bathtime, and pulling the Littler One out of a mailbox a couple times (which wasn't nearly as bizarre as it sounds), though not in that order.  Then the Cat Daddy ushered the boyz to their slumber party and ran a coupla quick errands while I called Carol back.  She determined that, while it was still likely a little early in the process, she and her assistant (Marte, pronounced like Marta) would pack up their gear and head my way. For the most part I felt calm and happy and not-competitive, but there was that one part of me that went "YES!!" 

**I feel the need to clarify the nature and reason behind the "YES!!"  With the homebirthing, things can get hairy if two or more moms go into labor at the same time.  But not that hairy--quite simply, lots of midwives work back-up for each other.  So if the first-time mom's labor had progressed quickly and Carol headed over there, then the back-up midwife (a lovely and fantastic lady who was the primary midwife for a friend of mine, so I felt pretty comfortable about her even thought I'd never met her) would have come to me, and we all would have been quite content and well-cared-for.  While this is a fantastic and effective system of contingency plans, I was grateful for Plan A.  Hence the "YES!!"  And as it turned out, the first-time mom did not go into full labor that night, so no one had to "beat" anyone to anything, which made me feel good because I like it when things turn out nice & neat that way. End digression.** 

By this point it was 7:30ish and the ladies were shooting to arrive around 9ish (packing time plus a 45-min drive).  Also by this point, the house was as clean as it was gonna get, so we finished the early-labor tasks.  Then we were all "What do we do now?" and decided to put the office back together.  See, we had painted it a couple weeks prior, and the stuff was still out in our family/play room, so we figured we might as well do what we could before things got really intense, what with a baby coming out and all.  I did leave the bulk of the lifting to the Cat Daddy--my main tasks were running cables to the modem and so on so they would be nice & neat.  There were contractions every few minutes in there, during which I would stop & sit & breathe thru them. After that it was 8:30, and there were some ticky-tack-type tasks to do (filing, anyone??) but I got about 5 minutes into those before deciding I didn't really want to do that anymore.  I told the Cat Daddy, "I'm gonna go upstairs & hang out while I wait for Carol & Marte."  He teased me about bailing on him, and I made snide remarks that were equal parts "I love you" and "Tread lightly, Buster Brown."

See?  Boring...


Part I    Part III    Part IV   Part V

Homebirth-A-Go-Go 2012--Part I...

Part II     Part III     Part IV     Part V

I should probably get this down, while it's fairly fresh, and before the true hectic-ness (Hectic-ment? Hecticity??) of 3 kids sets in for reals. The Youngest--she doesn't have an official bloggy-name yet, but I'll start with The Youngest and go from there--made her entrance about as early as one can on a given day, 1203 AM on Friday, April 6.

The plan this time was, again, a homebirth. I was so pleased with how things went with The Littler One that, barring any complications or issues, it was a no-brainer for me to choose the homebirth route again. My midwife from before doesn't travel all the way from Denver to Cheyenne anymore. She said she would for me (because she is just that fantastic), but it turned out a colleague of hers in Fort Collins was starting a new homebirth practice, and I thought "Hey, Fort Collins is that much closer than Denver, if she's a good fit for us this could be good too." The new (to us) midwife is also a CNM (Certified Nurse Midwife, as opposed to a CPM--Certified Professional Midwife--who are credentialed differently and not covered by Tricare, so the CNM-part was kind of important to me), and has been practicing in hospital settings for years but recently made the switch to homebirths.  So we set up a meeting, and got acquainted, and long story short, we went with the new midwife in Ft Collins.

Now, the last time I did such a good job of anticipating a not-early baby that it nearly shocked me when The Littler One came at 39 weeks and in just over 5 hours from start to finish.  This time I did such a terrible job of anticipating a not-early baby that it threw me for a loop when I sped not-so-swiftly past 39 weeks...and then 40.  I began alternating grumpy days and OK-days, and tried to keep up with the tidying and grocery shopping and so on, and finally convinced myself that she had decided to just stay put forever and was never coming out.  Once I determined this, things didn't exactly get cheerful, but they did get more bearable.  When friends/relatives/foreign ambassadors from small republics pulled the old "So, anything yet???"  I could explain that, in fact, there would never be anything because my daughter was just going to stay put, because apparently my womb is quite comfortable and sufficient for long-term sustenance.  Then they were all, "Oh, ha ha Skerrib!" and I felt good about not burning any bridges with overly-snarky responses, because I had some serious snark available had the situation called for it, but I knew that people were just being nice, so I didn't really want to, um, alienate anyone or anything.

By this time it was Thursday April 5--40 weeks and 4 days.  Two other friends due right around the same time had had their babies, and in a deep and secret corner of my brain I thought, "If she were to decide to come out, she would round out the group of 3 quite nicely," followed quickly by "but she's staying in forever. Too bad."

Then I got a call from work.  It turned out I needed to fill out some security paperwork (because I'm very important and official) and I thought "Good, something to keep me occupied," and I figured I should get started on it, just in case she decided to come out, even though she probably never would.  I joked with my boss that maybe having a task to accomplish would start labor, and then realized that just by hoping to start labor I was dooming myself further to perma-pregnancy, and I assured my boss that I should be able to get the paperwork filled out in the next day or two.  So I fed the boyz lunch and got to it.

It's an interesting thing, the subconscious.  I'd been having Braxton-Hicks contractions for months in the afternoons.  They are the laid-back "practice" contractions that don't usually mean much.  In my case it has always been very distinct when actual labor contractions started, so I don't generally pay a whole lot of attention to the BH's.  But you know, by this point I did know that I had them mostly in the afternoon/evenings, that they were never closer than 10 minutes apart, and that by reclining and drinking water they would pretty much subside.  I don't know that I ever consciously told myself or anyone else all of this...but as I was filling out my paperwork I noticed that they kept coming every 10 minutes or so, even though I was drinking water, and they were starting to resemble more of a "wave" pattern, where they would gradually get more intense and then subside.  Suddenly they were different than before.

"Maybe I'll just start keeping track of these," I told myself, "even though she's never coming out."  So starting at 1:41 pm, in between tracking down past residences and references and such, just for grins & giggles, I wrote down start times, and pulled up an online stopwatch.

After an hour or so I texted a few folks.  I told the Cat Daddy "Don't come home yet, but I might be having a few contractions." I told our fabulous neighbors, who had 8 family members--including 5 children--staying with them "I'm not sure yet, but I may be sending the boys over for their slumber party tonite.  And may I please have your middle name and email address for my work paperwork?"  I told Carol (the midwife), "Just so you know, I might be having some contractions.  I'll let you know if things get interesting."  And Carol texted back, "Hmmm, my first-time-mom client might be showing signs of early labor too."

And suddenly I switched mental tactics and thought, "I have GOT to beat the first-time-mom!" (Geez Skerrib, competitive much?!) and I allowed myself to think, "She just might come out after all..."


Part II    Part III    Part IV    Part V

Best Ever Home Birth Part III...

Part I Part II

The pool soon became a moot point. The contractions were very close together, and I was moving toward pushing. I was very much in my own world, working through the contractions, and my body sort of started pushing for me. Janet must have been watching me closely, because she came over behind me (I was still on hands & knees), and I said, “I might be pooping.” Yes friends, I am among the estimated 30% of women who tend to poop in labor. It happened with His Highness as well. Why I always feel the need to confirm this I have no idea, but I had a similar conversation when His Highness was born. Anyway, Janet said, “That’s alright, go right ahead,” and that’s all I’m saying about that. Then I felt that the baby was either crowning or darn close. So I yelled. I don’t think I was panicking…I remember being surprised to find that the baby was right there, and feeling like I needed that extra oomph to get through it. Then I heard, “OK the baby’s going to crown with the next contraction, OK the head is out, OK the baby is here.” I don’t know, but it might have been that quick. I thought “I can tell the baby’s here because it doesn’t hurt anymore,” but I think I said something entirely boring, like “Good.” Faith helped me turn over w/o disturbing the cord, and they handed him to me. One of them had said “He’s a little peanut,” and as I took him I said, “Oh my gosh you’re tiny!” I heard Faith say “Time of birth 6:35.”

I held the baby while Janet and Faith were bustling around me. I don’t know what they were saying at first, but I started paying attention again within a few minutes and heard them saying Apgar score types of things, and somewhere in there they stuck a thermometer under his arm, and were listening to his respiration (and pulse?) with the stethoscope. They commented that while he didn’t cry he was pink, and breathing, and his lungs sounded nice & clear, so he was just a mellow baby. I checked for boy parts, just to be sure.

No, the Cat Daddy didn’t make it back in time! The sitter lives on base, which is a 15-20 minute drive. Add in the drop off time and there’s no way he could’ve been back by 6:35. He came in very shortly after—he said the clock read 6:40 when he got there. He breezed in the door and said, “OK I’m back, you can give birth now!” and I looked at him and said, “I already did.” He looked at me (holding the baby) and asked, “Where’s the baby?” and I replied, “Right here, I’m holding him.” I would love to have a photo of his expression as he realized that it was done. Never have I surprised him like that. It was great.

Janet and Faith had me sit on the birth stool to wait for the placenta to come. This was not my favorite, as the contractions were more noticeable than I remember with His Highness (I’ve heard that is common). I remember feeling very whiny about wanting them to stop. I teased the Cat Daddy that he was in time to see the placenta come out. He hung out in the vicinity, but stayed where he was sure NOT to see the placenta come out. The placenta came out either right before or right after Janet cut the cord (she waited for it to stop pulsating). A disgusting blob into my 4 quart Emerilware pot. Apparently for a placenta it looked good—all intact and such. That was all I needed to know. Blech.

Shortly after this (right after?) Janet said, “OK, time for you to go to bed,” so we all proceeded to get me to bed. Here Janet & Faith looked me over and proclaimed me a superstar birther (or something like that—that’s how I felt, anyway). Janet was saying that the baby had never turned back—he had actually come out with his head sideways, and it was so quick that there was no molding. In her words His Highness had “paved the way” (he had been 8 lbs 9 oz, the new one was 6 lbs 12 oz). Yay for him!

After all this and in no particular order--Janet & Faith helped us get started with nursing, and the Cat Daddy made a big breakfast for everyone. Yum. If I hadn’t just given birth, I’d have said that I felt tired only because I’d been up since 1am. I felt better than I’d felt at all since we arrived in Cheyenne. No heartburn, queasies, or anything. We called the fam to let them know the baby was here and all was well. Janet hung out with me while she did paperwork, or texted, or something, while the Cat Daddy and Faith set about emptying the pool. It took some doing to get the drill pump to work, and even then it was slower than we’d expected it to be, but whatever. The pool got emptied. They also pulled up & tossed all the plastic, started laundry, etc. They caught Zoe getting into the placenta--ew. This was the grossest of the gross for the day. Faith called her a “dirty bird,” a nickname which I think has stuck. Faith told us stories about gross experiences with pool-emptying. We were equally amused (because she told them with great panache and they were hilarious), horrified (because they were, in fact, gross), and grateful (that they didn’t happen to us).

Eventually Janet decided that I would need a couple stitches for a very small tear (Faith called it a skid mark—nice). The worst part of the entire day was the local anesthetic because it involved needles and because it STUNG. But Janet and Faith both know my needle issues and were way cool about it, so it wasn’t so bad. They were talking during this time, and at one point Janet said something about “…and here we have our first knot,” which makes me laugh because it sounded like they were at a scout meeting or something.

After all this excitement, it was time for the weighing and measuring. Janet undressed the baby and found that he’d had a healthy poop already. Ah, the milestones of the neonate! The Cat Daddy took lots of pics, and I had great fun getting to be right there to watch it all (as opposed to lying down across the room). Faith (who is also a nurse, doula, and lactation consultant) gave the baby the Vitamin K shot, which of course made him cry, so there was his healthy cry.

All in all, the baby and I were sound as a pound and good to go. Except for the unused, deflated kiddie pool airing out on the porch, I don’t think you’d have known anything out of the ordinary had happened that day. So Janet and Faith went on their way for the day (to return the next day, and three days after that).

I take the credit for placing myself where I knew I’d be the most relaxed—at home. Beyond that, I am just plain grateful for how smoothly everything went. I loved not having to worry about packing or getting in the car to go anywhere. I loved laboring amid my own space and having access to all my own stuff. I loved feeling like I was in charge, could do what was most comfortable for me, and didn’t have to ask ‘permission’ to do certain things (eating, for example). I felt safe & supported, but not intruded upon. I felt like a rock star for the day. I loved that such a major event felt, to some extent, like no big deal. It felt seamless to me—we have our new kiddo, and here he is; he’s in our family now, and here we go.

That’s all to say it was fantastc--all I dreamed and more. I can't say enough good about the experience. Rock on...

Best Ever Home Birth Part II...

Part I Part III

Wednesday (April 8)—1-ish am...

So then my water broke. I was unsure at first if that was truly what it was, but my body helped me out by leaking some more fluid, and oh good, there’s some bloody show (ew). Yep, water broken, labor time.

I had some lingering denial to deal with. I’d done such a good job of not getting my hopes up for an early labor, that it came as a great surprise to find that very thing happening. I would say I was shocked, except that at 39 weeks it was entirely reasonable for me to be in labor.

I went back to bed and looked at the clock—1:13 am. Dangit. I did NOT want to have to call the midwife in the middle of the night, even though she’d assured me a million times that that was exactly what she wanted me to do, especially since she would be driving 2 hours to get to me.

I had not felt any contractions yet, so I decided to wait a little while to see what happened, and try to get some sleep if I could. I couldn’t. I was shaking, either from adrenaline or labor hormones; probably both. I really wasn’t feeling anything, except maybe a little crampy, but then it went away after half a minute or so, and—DUH. So I looked at the clock again and it was around 1:20.

Now I was satisfied that I was, indeed, in labor. I still felt bad about calling my midwife (I’m a dork; I know), so I decided to time a few contractions and call her at 2 am. So I did. They were coming reliably at 6 minutes apart, lasting 30-40 seconds, and they were still fairly easy, but definitely more than the initial crampy feeling. Then I called the midwife. She asked a couple questions & then said she & her assistant would head our way. I tried to lie down & see if I could sleep any more, but ended up going out to the living room to sit on the fitness ball…which had become a birthing ball for the day.

I had not awakened the Cat Daddy yet. I wanted to let him sleep as long as possible. So I sat on the ball and timed contractions, which to me made the time go really fast. Around 3:30 I finally decided that he would not be happy to wake up on his own to find the midwife already there, so I woke him up with, “Dude, I’m in labor.” He looked at me and said, “Are you sure?” and I said, “My water broke, and the contractions are 6 minutes apart, and Janet (the midwife) will be here probably within an hour or so.”

He still had work stuff scheduled the rest of the week. He had worked out a leave plan with his commanders & such, based on the assumption that I would not go into labor until at least the 11th. He said, “So you probably don’t want me to go to my trainer ride this morning,” and I said, “Um, we’re probably going to have a baby today.”

His response was “Oh, shit.” This is exactly what I was thinking. Most women would be ecstatic. I was slightly disappointed that I wouldn’t get to finish the last few things I’d wanted to do that weekend—mostly laundry--and had to suck it up a little about the fact that my plans had been disrupted. I think I kept a reasonable perspective, though. Above all I knew it was time to get to work, so I did.

I went back out to the living room to sit on the ball, and the Cat Daddy made me a PB sandwich to nibble on & then busied himself with setting up the pool and putting down all the sheets of plastic. It was a bonanza of plastic--I could move freely without worrying about the carpet (which we're tearing out anyway, but that's another story).

I had done the test-inflation of the pool and had worked out the particulars…so I helped out by answering a few questions the Cat Daddy had along the way. He had a knack for asking in the middle of contractions, which I found highly annoying, and yet I was pleased that I found it annoying because that meant we were moving right along.

My midwife & her assistant arrived around 5 am. Janet (the midwife) got up to speed with me while Faith (the assistant) set up the gear they’d brought in with them (several bags’ worth--they were ready for anything). By this point the contractions were longer, stronger, and closer together--all good things. In the course of our conversation I said, for lack of better terms, that it felt like I was going to poop out a baby. Janet said that probably meant he was nice & low. Good.

After talking with me, Janet had me lie on the couch to take my vitals and listen to the baby’s heartbeat. Everything looked and sounded good; the only thing was that, after weeks and weeks of perfect positioning, the baby had twisted himself so that his back was now facing right instead of slightly-left. Not a catastrophe, but still not ideal. Little booger. I got back on the ball and Janet brought me a snack (vanilla pudding--yum), while Faith refilled my water bottle for me. I didn’t really feel like eating, but I hadn't felt like eating the entire pregnancy, so I kept nibbling, not knowing how much longer I'd be in labor, but knowing that as time went on I would be glad for the extra energy.

Somewhere in there, around 5:30 I think, His Highness woke up and joined us. The Cat Daddy fed him and got him ready to go to the sitter’s (who he had called a little before). Janet suggested that, once His Highness was on his way, I should try getting on hands & knees to encourage the baby to turn back where he had been. The Cat Daddy wasn’t dawdling exactly, but he seemed to be kind of lingering, so Janet told him, “You should go and drop His Highness off because her contractions are really picking up.”

Something to know about Janet—she is one of the calmest people I’ve met. Ever. Everything she said to me or The Cat Daddy was as if we were just hanging out by the pool on a regular day, instead of milling about preparing for a birth at 5 in the morning. So even from her comment to The Cat Daddy I really couldn’t get a read as to what she thought my timeline might be. That, or I was too engrossed in concentration to think about it. Contrast this with Faith, whose personality is more energetic and “up”--she had come up & rubbed my temples while I was on the couch and said, “Yay, you’re having a baby today!” They are like Yin & Yang--it was very fun to watch the two of them work together.

So The Cat Daddy and His Highness were out the door around 6 am. I did a couple of the wiggly exercises Janet suggested to get the baby to twist back to the left. The next contraction came and was more intense than when I’d been sitting on the ball. I told Janet this and said, “That’s probably a good thing, right?” and she said, in a very nonplussed way, “Yes.”

So I went through a few more contractions like this, and it kept getting worse, and I started thinking that I’d really like to get in the pool. It was about half full at the time. Faith and the Cat Daddy had been working on this, first with hot water via the washing machine hookup and then with pots of hot water via the stove. I asked if we could work more on filling the pool because I was really uncomfortable and would like to get in. So Faith threw in the hose and started adding cool water to balance out with the very hot, and fill it up faster so I could get in & hang with the cheerful sea creatures...

Best Ever Home Birth Part I...

Part II Part III

A prologue (writing is slow-going these days):

Tuesday (April 7) was a fairly ordinary day. Throughout the day I had some little quirks & discomforts--the type of thing that could be a sign of labor or could be nothing at all—but nothing I hadn’t been feeling all along during the pregnancy, so I didn’t think much except “Boy am I ready to not be pregnant anymore.” By the evening I was tired & grumpy, and had a nasty backache (which I’m not sure was labor related, but either way it took almost 3 weeks for it to go away; stupid backache), so I called it a day & went to bed early. The Cat Daddy said my belly looked weird, and wondered if I felt like labor could be starting, and while I’d been having a TON of Braxton Hicks (light, ‘practice’ contractions), I assured him I just needed some sleep. I had at least a week left, after all...

Birth Story to Come...

The newest one arrived this past Wed April 8, at 6:35 AM. 6 lbs 12 oz, 20 in long, blah blah blah. I'm writing up the birth story--which includes a fantastic best-ever home birth but not sitting in the pool--but in the meantime a list of things I love about becoming disenchanted...

--Heartburn instantly and completely gone
--Brushing my teeth and swallowing pills with nary a concern about gagging
--Eating normal sized meals
--Breathing without thinking about it
--My rediscovered bladder capacity
--More normal digestive function in general
--Chocolate
--Massive dry skin relief within hours
--Turning in bed without having to make a plan (unless flanked by children on both sides)
--Sleeping well (makes up for the reduced sleep time)
--Toting around a little football-sized bundle...and being able to set him down for a bit

The last one makes me chuckle a little bit. On Friday night the Cat Daddy and I caught up on our Thursday night TV lineup, so once His Highness was in bed we took the little one downstairs, popped him in the pack & play, and flipped on the TV. I was able to do some much-needed stretching, and then I kicked back & relaxed...for about 2 minutes until I retrieved the kiddo from the pack & play and THEN returned to my seat to kick back & relax. The Cat Daddy grinned knowingly & said, "still can't leave a kiddo down, can you," and doggone it, he's right. The pack mentality must be so firmly ingrained in me that it's become permanent...

Home Birth Questions Answered--Logistics, Etc...

Part I; Part II; Part III; Part IV; Safety


At long last, the Q/A on the logistics of home birth (including, of course, a photo of His Highness cavorting with the cheerful aquatic sea creatures during the test inflation of the kiddie pool)...

Q-- What about His Highness?
A--He will be shuttled off with a friend.

Q--What if you wanted him to be at the birth?
A--Then we would do that. We get to choose who we want present.

Q--Who do you want present?
A--Our plan is for the midwife, her assistant (who will also function as a doula), the Cat Daddy, and myself to be there.

Q--What, are you trying to shut everyone else out?
A--Yes. It’s labor, not a garden party. I concentrate best with a minimal audience.

Q--Isn’t it messy?
A--Yes & no. Birth is pretty messy no matter how you do it, but we prepare things ahead of time to minimize the mess—with help from a supply list the midwife gave us. And then the midwife & her assistant do the clean-up, laundry included—nice!

Q--When will you set up the pool? Won’t it take forever to fill?
A--Early in labor. I’m guessing it’ll take an hour or two to inflate it, fill it, and get it to temperature.

Q--How will you get the pool warm and keep it there?
A--A combination of hot water from the washing machine hookup (via a brand new drinking-water-safe garden hose) and water boiled the old fashioned way (on the stove). As it cools we'll bail some cool water & add more hot. And we'll cover it when I'm not using it to hold in the heat better.

Q--What if the weight of all the water makes the pool fall through the floor to the basement?
A--I’m nerdy enough to have done the calculations, and confident that won’t happen.

Q--How will you empty the pool?
A--We’ll siphon it (to the back yard, toilet, or bathtub) with a hose. We even bought a $7 drill pump thingy so no one has to risk a mouthful of water to get it started.

Q--Ew.
A--I know. That’s why we bought the little thingy.

Q--If your labor slows or stalls will your midwife use herbal remedies to try to help it along?
A--I think so. She’s familiar with a lot of herbal stuff used throughout pregnancy and is all for herbal remedies that have been shown to be safe & effective.

Q--What about your baby’s vital stats, birth certificate, etc.?
A--The midwife brings everything she needs to take his measurements and so on, and sends in the paperwork for the birth certificate.

Q--Do you think placentas are totally beautiful now?
A--No. Not really at all. My midwife will properly dispose of the placenta for us. We won’t be saving it, or burying it under a freshly-planted tree, or anything like that.

Q--Um, people do that?
A--Some do. We won’t.

Q--I still wouldn't want to do a home birth.
A--That's cool, as long as you know what's available. Only you can decide how & where you prefer to give birth. Empowerment, and all that.

Q--This is the most fascinating series of posts I’ve ever read. Where can I find out more?
A--A good place to start is the Citizens for Midwifery FAQ’s page. For info specifically on waterbirth, start at Waterbirth International.

Then check out my midwife’s page of links and other stuff. Lotsa really good info there.

Well kids, this concludes my planned sharing on home birth. Thanks for all the positive feedback, and feel free to dialogue and ask questions. As you can probably tell, I will talk about it endlessly if provoked.

God-willing, I'll be posting in a few weeks to tell you that everything went great and it was all I dreamed and more. Here's hoping...

Home Birth Questions Answered--Safety, Etc...

Part I; Part II; Part III; Part IV; Logistics

I think this is the fun part--the hows, what-ifs, and whatnot of natural and/or home birth. In my pre-childbearing days the only thing I envisioned about home birth was crunchy hippy-types with flowers in their hair, talking about the beauty of placentas & stuff. There was no way I'd do anything that freaky-deaky. The thing is, once you know more about home birth, it loses most of the freaky-deaky and often sounds completely reasonable, even if it's not something you'd want to do.

Q--Are you nuts?
A--No, just a little outside the mainstream when it comes to the birthing.

Q--What's the deal with midwives? What's their "thing"?
A--The midwives model of care is based on the assumption that normal, low-risk pregnancy & birth are not medical events, and the majority of the time they will go just fine when allowed to proceed on their own. The goal is to empower women to trust their instincts and believe in their bodies' abilities to do what what they were designed to do--birth babies.

Q--Who delivers the baby?
A--Ah, a distinction in terminology here. The mother delivers the baby. Birth attendants, such as doctors and midwives, catch babies. Or depending on their wishes, sometimes moms & dads catch the babies.

Q--Really? People care that much about semantics?
A--Some do, some don’t. Depends on what helps them feel empowered.

Q--What about prenatal care?
A--I have all the same appointments as I would with an OB, and all the same screenings and such are available to me. My blood is Rh-negative, so I need an extra shot or two, and in my case the midwife gives them to me.

Q--Where do you have your prenatal care?
A--Some midwives, even home birth ones, have offices. Mine comes to my house. She brings all her necessary supplies with her. It's fantastic!

Q--Did she do an ultrasound?
A--She referred me to the hospital to have it done.

Q--What if something goes wrong?
A--Totally depends on the situation.

Q--Nice one, Snarky McSnark. What if the baby is breech?
A--Depends on the parents' & midwife's comfort level with a breech birth. In my case if we tried all the 'tricks' and the baby just wouldn't turn, I would go to the hospital & have a c-section.

Q--Would the midwife do the c-section?
A--No, an OB would.

Q--What if you have a failure to progress?
A--As long as the baby and I were both fine we would let the labor progress at its own pace. I would probably do a combination of different things, such as changing positions, walking around, and the like. Or if I were tired I might rest for a while to conserve my energy for when things picked up again. I would also eat (lightly) and drink to keep my energy up.

Q--Indefinitely?
A--Probably not. If things were going so long that I was becoming exhausted, or if the midwife recommended transfer, I would go to the hospital. Most likely though, the baby will come on his own when he's ready.

Q--What else might send you to the hospital?
A--To name a few: premature labor, problems with the placenta (abruption, previa, etc), signs of distress in the baby, signs of shock in me, thick meconium (poop) stained fluid, cord prolapse, or pretty much anything where we or the midwife feel it’s necessary.

Q--Who decides if you go to the hospital?
A--In most cases, the midwife would consult with the doctor on call at the hospital first. If at all possible it would be a joint decision between us, her, and the docs, but there are some cases where she & the doc would make an executive decision, regardless of what we think. Knowing that she’s going to do her best to help us have an intervention-free birth, if she thinks we should go, I’d likely be quite inclined to agree.

Q--How closely does the midwife watch you during labor?
A--Once the midwife and her assistant are here, it's pretty much continuous support. She takes my vital signs every so often, and keeps an eye on me in general to make sure I'm staying healthy throughout labor. There's a protocol she follows, but I don't remember what it is.

Q--What about fetal monitoring?
A--The midwife brings the doppler-thingy and listens to the baby's heartbeat, according to a specific protocol. If I remember right it's every hour during early-active labor, every half hour during active labor/transition, and every 15 minutes during pushing. As with me, she keeps an eye on the baby to make sure all is well.

Logistics next time! Any more questions, put them in comments or email me: skerri_bATyahooDOTcom...

Home Birth Manifesto IV--Denouement...

Part I; Part II; Part III; Safety; Logistics

In Part III, I mentioned that, in this post, I would talk about our experiences since deciding to plan a home birth, finding our midwife, getting the insurance in order, etc.

But as I look back over the past six months or so I am finding that things have really been pretty boring since then. Boring in a good way, mind you--I've had all my regular appointments and most of the screenings that they usually do for pregnant ladies, and the little kiddo has been growing & growing, getting ready for mid-April. My first-trimester queasies lasted way longer than the first trimester, but everything has been well within the norms for pregnancy and these days I'm feeling pretty good, as long as I remember to eat regularly, steer clear of a few key foods depending on the day, and drink lots of water. Funny how that works.

I guess I'll toss out some snippets, then...

--As far as the labor goes, I'm expecting pretty much the same as with the last time, except I won't be going anywhere. I'm hoping that feeling more relaxed in my own space, along with this being my second kiddo, will help the whole process go faster than the first time. I know there are no guarantees there, but I'm still pretty hopeful about it.

--I'm not necessarily planning a waterbirth, but I do plan to sit in the water for at least part of the labor--buoyancy is an excellent alternative to drugs for managing pain. I don't know how I'll feel in the moment, so I want the option to stay in the tub for the birth if I want. But I'm cheap, so instead of buying or renting a tub built specifically for labor/birth, I bought the inflatable kiddie pool my midwife recommended, for less than $40 including shipping. It has an inflatable bottom for added comfort, and cheerful aquatic creatures printed on the sides. That last part just strikes me as funny. I keep thinking, "Must get pictures of the cheerful sea creatures."

--Support people--Since the birth of His Highness, both the Cat Daddy and I are pretty vocal about encouraging people to have a doula or other person for added support during labor. I appreciated having a couple other women present who knew lots of different ways that I might like to be supported and encouraged during the hard parts, and the Cat Daddy appreciated that he didn't have to read my mind to know what I wanted. He was able to support me well, without worrying whether or not he was supporting me well, if that makes any sense. As he says, "birthing really is women's work," and I tend to agree. For me that additional support made all the difference.

Let me harp on this one just a little bit longer. It irks me when I hear people say "trust me, just do such-and-such," or some other condescending phrase based only on their experiences, because it causes women to question their own experiences and strength and think "gosh, maybe I really can't do this." There's a big difference between "I had to..." and "I chose to..." When it comes to normal and uncomplicated birth, the truth of the matter is that you absolutely can do it the way you want to. Knowing all your options and having supportive people around you saying "You CAN do this" makes all the difference in being confident about whatever choices you make in the process. Then you are powerful and in charge of your own birth, which I think is the only acceptable way to do it. Rather than saying "trust me, get a doula," (!) I'll leave it at "consider carefully who you want to have supporting you, and do what you want for your birth."

--My favorite questions I learned to ask are "Am I OK? Is my baby OK? Why are we doing such-and-such?" I like it because it makes the doc/nurse/midwife articulate their reasoning for you. Sometimes there is a legitimate need for an intervention, but sometimes it's just what they "always do." Knowing this helps you decide whether or not you want to go ahead with whatever they are suggesting.

My other favorite is "I do not consent to that." I did not use that one, but I have heard stories from other women who felt strongarmed into procedures that were unnecessary. It's easy to feel like the doctor is "the boss," but in reality they need consent to proceed with a procedure. I think a good doc/nurse/midwife will include you in the decision-making process whenever possible. You are the one doing the work and the recipient of whatever treatments you decide upon, after all.

...That about concludes my manifesto. I think. I could ramble on forever, but I think I've pretty well captured the gist of things. Obviously I'm geared more toward natural & such, but my big thing is that people know about all their options, and hear that they are capable of doing labor & birth the way they choose. I feel grateful to have learned about this kind of stuff, & to have been able to make very different choices than I might have otherwise. And one side-effect of this is that I feel more confident & powerful in other of areas of life. It's a beautiful thing.

The Q/A is in process, so that'll be next...

Home Birth Questions...

Hey folks, I'm working on a Q/A list for common questions people have about safety & logistics of home birth. If you have one that keeps you awake at night, put it in the comments or email it to me--skerri_bATyahooDOTcom (but put in appropriate symbols in the address).

Won't that be fun!!

Home Birth Manifesto III--Kiddo #2...

Part I; Part II; Part IV; Safety; Logistics

So to recap thus far, His Highness was born in a hospital, I went natural, and in the process I learned a few things that I wanted to do differently for subsequent kids. Boom; done.

Fast forward to August of '08, when we found we were expecting another baby. Yay us! The immediate issue was that we were no longer living in Massachusetts. We were in Lompoc CA at the time, but were rapidly approaching our relocation to lovely Cheyenne, so we needed to make some decisions as far as where to go for the maternity care.

Had we still been in Massachusetts, I actually would've been less likely to go with a homebirth. I had been happy enough with the results the first time through, and I was confident that I could go with the same docs & hospital and still make the changes I wanted. I haven't even mentioned the Cat Daddy in all of this yet, have I. He was with me the whole way, and entirely supportive & cool, and also very happy with our experiences with His Highness. For him staying with the same docs would've been a no-brainer.

But we weren't in Mass; we were headed to Cheyenne. So I started researching the options. I looked up OBs and midwives in the area, including Fort Collins, Greeley, etc. I called what is considered the main OB practice in Cheyenne, and talked to one of the triage nurses. I started out with something like "I'm very crunchy about the childbirth. How easy would it be for me to labor and birth naturally and not have to fight off unnecessary interventions?" Her immediate response was, "Wellll..." which told me everything I needed to know (and I appreciated her honesty). Boiling down her answers to all my other questions, it wouldn't have been a problem in theory, but I got the feeling I'd need to do a lot of self-advocacy, and quite possibly start kicking & swearing to fend off the needles. I also spoke with some ladies who had given birth in Cheyenne and the consensus was "If you really want to give birth naturally, don't give birth in Cheyenne." So that settled that.

By this point I had already broached the topic of home birth with the Cat Daddy. He wasn't really comfortable with the idea, so we talked about his concerns and reservations and all that. I pointed out the advantages for him. We'd have access to our own food, our own TV, internet, and even the PS3. He wouldn't have to go find a waiting room or cafeteria when he wanted a break, and could sleep in his own bed if things were going thru the night (the last time he snoozed on a thick floor pad the Rootses had very kindly brought for him). No driving back & forth to the hospital with His Highness, dinkin' around the hospital room, waiting until time to go home. While this all sounded good, he still preferred the hospital or even a birth center. Fair enough--I promised him I'd keep exploring the options, and he knew I would do the due diligence.

Over the course of the research, my options began to dwindle, and I began to feel nervous. The closest birth center is in Denver, about 2 hours away, and I preferred not to make that trek if I could avoid it. I had looked up hospital midwives and wasn't finding a whole lot of options. I really liked what I saw on the website for this one midwifery practice, but when I called they said they weren't taking any new maternity patients--rats! I was willing to travel the 45 min to Fort Collins, but had no idea what to expect from the practices in that area. Several OB practices include midwives, even the one I spoke with on the phone. But if the midwife isn't on call when you go into labor, you get the doctor on call, same as everyone else, and the doc may or may not be willing to acquiesce to the differences in approach. By this point I really, really wanted to strongly consider home birth.

I started putting out feelers for local home birth midwives. Wyoming has pretty strict midwifery laws. While homebirth isn't all-out illegal like in some states, only certified nurse midwives may legally attend births (as opposed to certified professional midwives or some other variant), and a home birth CNM can be hard to find.

I had also contacted my insurance company to see if they even covered home births, and it turns out they do, but only with a certified nurse midwife. So to have any hope of getting any sort of coverage or reimbursement, I had to go with a CNM anyway. I knew there would still be some finagling involved to get everything set up--that's just how it goes when you want to do something that's different from the norm. But I looked at it this way: I could fight with insurance on this end getting an approval, or anticipate fighting with medical personnel while I was trying to relax and get a baby out. The Cat Daddy was all too prepared to battle docs, and to have great fun doing it, but guess which one I prefer?

Long story short (relatively speaking), I found my certified nurse midwife, who is based in Denver but also has clients in Cheyenne. I contacted her and asked some cursory questions...yes, she'll come up to Cheyenne, yes she takes my insurance, yes she can give me the shots for my Rh-negative blood type, etc. She also referred me to two people: a rep from her billing company who could tell me how they'd dealt with my insurance in the past, and a fellow mil-wife who had recently been a client of hers, who could share with me how she navigated the insurance maze.

Next I asked the Cat Daddy if we could schedule an interview with her, so we could both ask all our questions and see if it was something we wanted to move forward with. His response was along the lines of "I can tell your mind is made up already, so we might as well." He was totally right, but I still give him high praise for being willing to consider it. It meant a lot to me.

So we met with the midwife, discussed her 25 years of experience in both hospital and home settings, asked all our "what-ifs," and talked about our experiences and all things childbirth. It was fabulous. Even the Cat Daddy seemed pretty comfortable with what he was hearing. After she left I asked him, in a very mature manner, "Please please please please please can we do this?!??!?!" and he said "go for it" while I did a little dance and tried to wipe the goofy grin off my face.

The insurance battle then commenced. You would think insurance companies would be all over home birth for normal, low-risk pregnancies, as it means much less overall cost, but that is not the case. In addition to politics and such, home birth is still unusual enough that they balk when people want to do something different, and furthermore want them to pay for it.

Oddly enough, it wasn't so much a battle with the insurance company as it was trying to convince the insurance office on base that they do in fact cover home birth, and to stop telling the doctor they didn't, so he would put in the dang referral for me. All told it took about a month, and was all I dreamed and more with the frustration, but it worked out in the end, mostly due to a very helpful lady who is a something-blah-blah liaison on base. She called on her people and helped me talk the doctor into submitting the referral.

Finally, it was approved. I'm still not sure we'll be reimbursed for the entirety of the cost. In fact I know we won't; there are some out-of-pocket costs we are not even going to attempt submitting because they would be all, "Why on earth do you need a kiddie pool and a garden hose to give birth??" (more on this later) With the referral, however, we know we'll get at least a good chunk of the midwife's fees back, and it's worth it (to me anyway) to pay the difference.

A great side benefit to all this was meeting the mil-wife and hitting it off pretty well. Through her I found the moms group I belong to, and a lady in the group told me about her wonderful experiences with an OB practice in Fort Collins, where they are much more receptive to the natural childbirth (and apparently they treat you like a rockstar in the hospital there. Sounds good to me). While I'd already made the home birth decision, it was good to find this out, because if I end up needing some non-emergent medical care, going there will be my first choice.

Which I believe brings us to the conclusion of how we got here in the way of decision-making. Next I'll talk about our experiences since...

Home Birth Manifesto II--His Highness...

Part I; Part III; Part IV; Safety; Logistics

The important thing to know about my experience surrounding His Highness's birth is that overall it was really, really good.

I went in planning and hoping for a natural birth, and was able to do just that. All the docs in my OB practice were amenable to the idea (this was Massachusetts, after all--land of the earthy-crunchies), and when I got to the hospital, the nurses were more than willing to support me as well. I'm guessing they ran at least a little bit of interference with the docs for me, because while everything went just fine, it was a long process, and docs sometimes get impatient with the birth when it doesn't go according to averages. I don't know for sure though, and really by now it's a moot point anyway. Regardless, I give all my support folks mad props for helping me do it the way I did.

The good thing about the hospital was that their policies were fairly supportive of letting women choose how they wanted to labor. I had the electronic monitoring, but only about 15 minutes out of every hour. The rest of the time I was able to be up & around, eat lightly and drink, and I walked the entire hospital grounds and more over the course of my labor. I allowed them to put in a hep-lock, but did not have an IV. They had a tub I could have used, but I stuck with just the shower instead. I had a fantastic doula and was able to have friends come visit as well. In fact while the Rootses were there, Roots and the doula and I whooped it up humming and breathing through contractions while the Cat Daddy got to take a break and watch movies with Mr. Roots in what I'm told was a pretty decent waiting room. The room-service-style food was great, and they fed the Cat Daddy as well. And when all was done they sent us home with stuff. A few baby things--thermometer, really good nose-sucker, etc--and even some lotion for me, to help with the dryness due to all the handwashing, I guess. And an umbrella, which I found to be quite random, but I guess one can always use a freebie-umbrella. Everyone I met was kind and encouraging, and seemed glad to help parents & babies start off well.

All that said, and knowing that most of this I couldn't have known except in retrospect, there are some things I felt uneasy about or would change completely...

While my docs were amenable to natural birth, they were also plenty ready to step in and intervene right now. Good if something's wrong or the mother wants to discuss it; bad if everything's fine and they're simply feeling impatient and/or nervous. Over the course of the pregnancy we had extra ultrasounds for a nonexistent problem, and multiple offers of induction because they were estimating His Highness to be a fairly big baby (because they kept doing ultrasounds and, oddly enough, he kept growing). The thing about ultrasounds is that they have a high rate of error, depending on equipment, operator, and just the imprecision of measuring stuff on the inside with equipment on the outside. After the whole thing with finding a potential problem and then ruling it out, we just stopped putting all that much trust in the ultrasounds. In all fairness, their weight estimate was pretty close to his actual birth weight--8 lbs 9 oz--but he came out just fine and there was no reason to think he wouldn't.

At one appointment I mentioned that I would rather just forgo the 35-week ultrasound that was standard in their practice, and the doc nearly hyperventilated while explaining to me that they really needed to make sure there wouldn't be a shoulder dystocia, and to please, please just let them do the ultrasound. I went ahead with it--after all, no needles for me to worry about with an ultrasound--but it bugged me that they put on so much pressure when I was more than willing to take responsibility for waiving the test. I was just tired of the ultrasounds.

Around the time I went into labor they'd done a non-stress test and told me that the amniotic fluid levels were low (based on ultrasound estimates), and that normally they'd just induce me, except they knew it was important to me to avoid induction if possible, so they would "allow" me to wait a bit. This one bugged me because they did not mention that while the fluid levels were on the lower end of things, they were still well within the normal and safe range. They were also taking these estimates first thing in the morning, before I'd drunk the friggin' gallon of water I was taking in daily at the time, which can affect the fluid levels. And again, I could sense the pressure from their end, even though they kept it toned down.

I learned that, while they of course are quite concerned with the safety of moms and babies, the driving concern seems to be one of covering themselves legally. When it comes to litigation, their way of protecting themselves is to err on the side of intervening, and doing so sooner rather than later. On one hand I can certainly understand this. On the other, it annoyed me that they were trying to push medical procedures on me with a basis other than the need for them, thereby making a significant life event more about them than about making the best choices for me and my family.

When I did go into labor (3 days after the due date), I already had a non-stress test scheduled that day, so I kept the appointment, where they found me 5-6 cm dilated. This was fantastic news, and they asked if they could just admit me because anything could happen at any time. I didn't really want to be admitted, but I agreed because I was already so far along.

This is the number one thing I would've changed--I would have gone home. There's no way to have known how it would turn out, but His Highness was not born until over 24 hours later. I suspect part of that time lag was due to the excitement of being admitted, and being in labor, and being watched, and all that. Adrenaline & stuff can slow or stall a labor, and with my being a nervous-type, when I get all ramped up it takes a while for me to relax. My labor never stalled, per se, it just went very, very, very gradually.

Had I gone home it might or might not have taken as long as it did, but either way I'd have passed the time putzing around in my own comfy space, probably baking yummy treats, and I definitely would have done so without a friggin' needle in my arm. True, a hep-lock is not the same as an IV, but it was still a needle, and I hated it. As for all hell breaking loose at any moment, we lived 2.4 miles from the hospital and could've been there in under 10 minutes at any time. I even knew the back roads from jogging the area so many times.

And as for the 48 hours after His Highness was born...like I said, it was good as far as hospital experiences go. It's just that I had never before been in the hospital as a patient, and I was rather unimpressed. The idea was to get some rest, which just didn't happen for me, even during the times when His Highness was off gallivanting in his little roller-bed-thingy. My vitals, his vitals, people checking in, phone calls & visitors (the good distractions), nursing, diapers, charting his nursing & diapers, trying to remember to order lunch, and then to eat it. And being so dang...aware of the fact that I had a brand new kiddo. Who had been in my belly, but definitely wasn't in there anymore, but the belly was still there in a somewhat smaller and squishy form. Trippy, I tell you.

While I felt a little weird leaving the 24-hour support of the hospital, it was a big relief to get home and get on with figuring out how our new little family worked. And to sleep--sporadically, but comfortably in my own bed.

Next time, how all of this transitioned into a decision for home birth...

Home Birth Manifesto I--You're Going to WHAT?!?!

Part II; Part III; Part IV; Safety; Logistics

Some of you know this, some of you don't. It's not something I've made widely known, mostly because I wasn't sure how much I wanted to get into dealing with people's wide & varied reactions. But I've decided that this is an appropriate venue to share with friends and strangers about the decision we've made to have a home birth with this kiddo.

I know, I know. Just stay with me.

It's precisely because of the wide & varied reactions that I want to put down, all in one place, my processes & reasons for wanting to do this. I don't think everyone should necessarily do it this way, and I hope I come across as respectful of all women's decisions regarding the childbirth. It's a beautiful thing about living in the USA, after all, having the freedom to make so many choices based on our individual situations and circumstances.

I guess the best place to start is with my own philosophy on childbirth. Being the nerd that I am, I imagine the possibilities as a spectrum. At one end you have the all-out, all-natural, "labor is bliss" birther, and at the other the one who says "I prefer to just get it done with a planned, 20-minute surgery, thanks." And then you have everywhere in between, which is to say that there are as many ways to do labor & birth as there are women.

As for me...simply put, I'm a crunchy birther. I do childbirth naturally; that is, I give my body every chance to do what it was designed to do--start labor on its own, continue the process at its own pace, etc--and use coping techniques other than drugs to manage the pain. And there is pain. While there are some along the spectrum who attempt, and even achieve, a natural and painless birth, I'm not one of them. But it is endurable. Like many physical feats, natural birthing is largely a mental challenge. Birth is oftentimes compared to running a marathon, something that most people don't simply show up for. Considerable time is spent in preparation, knowing that much work lies ahead, and that in order to complete the race one will have to accept and even embrace the work that is to be done.

Another phrase commonly heard is "pain with a purpose." There is pain associated with injury, when your body is telling you something is wrong, and then there is pain associated with normal processes. Athletes experience a sort of pain they call "intensity." Getting in shape means working through the intensity to achieve conditioning. With labor and birth, knowing the source and cause of the pain enables the mother to relax and work through it so that she can have the natural birth she hopes for.

But why? Why not take advantage of the relief available with drugs? Everyone knows there's risk with any drug, but lots and lots and lots of mothers labor with drugs with no trouble. In fact in some cases the relief from the drug allows the mother to relax, which helps labor to progress faster.

Well it boils down to a couple things for me. First, I really, really, really don't like needles. A lot. I can handle them when necessary, like for having blood taken and getting vaccinated and whatnot, if by "handle" you mean I shut my eyes and make the bearer of the needle count to three before doing the deed. Then I do alright, except sometimes with having blood taken I get lightheaded and have to lie down for a minute. That hasn't happened in almost 2 years, but it doesn't make me like needles any better.

Second is that when I ask the old "risk versus benefit" question, for me the benefits of having the drugs do not outweigh the risks. I know that most likely I would be fine and the baby would be fine, but while drugs can help labor progress, in some cases they relax the mother so much that labor slows way down, which increases the chances of a c-section. And assuming I'm fine and the baby is fine, it's really important to me to avoid a c-section. Surgery, needles, longer recovery, blah blah blah. Plus for me specifically, strong abs help me to manage my SI joint dysfunction, so not cutting the abs is ideal.

Consequently, I do a lot of mental preparation for the work of giving birth. Around the third trimester I can sense myself turning inward. I give myself little mini pep talks about how I can do this, and I will take it one step at a time. I visualize myself working through contractions, I visualize my body doing everything bodies do during the process, and I visualize the baby working his way down & out. And yes, I even talk to the baby some, telling him that it's going to be hard work for both of us, but that we're going to work together and get through it just fine. Cheesy at times, perhaps, but effective. Personally, I do give thought to "what if something goes wrong," because it comforts me to work through the contingencies and know what I would want to do if such-and-such happened.

Anyway, this seems like a good stopping point. I'm going to close comments for now, but I'll open them up again once I get more of the story in place.

Up next I will share about my experiences surrounding His Highness's birth...

UPDATE--3/8/09--I'm opening the comments. Please no horror stories until May or so. :)